


Terrible Work If You Can Get It

by Cinaed



Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [12]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sabrina the Teenage Witch Fusion, Gen, Magic, Sibling Bonding, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 22:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18433475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: Carolina experiences retail hell as she works over the summer.





	Terrible Work If You Can Get It

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the latest episode! Thanks goes out, as always, to Aryashi, who helped me with retail hell descriptions as I wrote this. Also shout-out to her excellent dialogue for the honorable mention.

Carolina gets about five steps down the stairs before a camera floats up to meet her. It blocks the entire staircase, looking like something straight out of the nineteenth century. She stares at it, and then leans around to say, “Um, Doctor Grey--”

Grey waves at her. “Smile and say cheese!”

“Um, cheese?” Carolina says, obeying with an awkward smile, and then winces at the sudden blinding flash. A few steps behind her, Church yelps and whines, “My eyes!” By the time she can see again, blinking her watering eyes, the camera has disappeared and Grey is holding up a photo with an air of satisfaction. She gets a glimpse of herself and Church, both wearing puzzled smiles that are starting to shift to surprise.

“That goes on the fridge,” Grey declares, and then tucks the picture into her lab coat pocket. She smiles. “Now, let’s get you both a big breakfast. This is your first day of work, and we don’t want you losing steam before your lunch shift!”

“Thanks,” Carolina says, smoothing a nervous hand down the front of her dress. She’s worked plenty with her parents, of course -- when it comes to helping devastated towns and cities, it’s all hands on deck, even if that mostly meant her working in the kitchens and helping organize stuff. This job is different. It’s one at a local clothing shop.

“I can just eat at the Slicery,” Church says, but slides past Carolina, rolling his eyes when Carolina says, “I still don’t think working there means you get free food.”

“Vanessa made breakfast,” Grey says firmly. “You’re eating here.”

When they get down to the kitchen, Kimball has laid out a huge spread of food. She smiles as they sit down. “Eat,” she says. Her smile shifts, softening. Carolina’s glad to see her relaxed. Apparently visiting Europa was a good idea for everyone. Well, except maybe Church.  “Do you remember your first job, Grey?”

Grey giggles. “Well, things were slightly different then! My father was an architect for both mortals and witches. He helped to design Ginkaku-ji. It would have been unheard of for me to work! It wasn’t until I moved to the Other Realm when I reached my centennial that I apprenticed with an apothecary there.”

Carolina is still absorbing the casual way Grey talks about reaching a hundred years old when Kimball shakes her head. “I worked as a spinster-- someone who spun wool to make yarn,” she clarifies, spying the blank look on Carolina’s face. “The word has changed over the centuries! But my parents wanted me to learn the value of a hard day’s work, so--” She shrugs and picks up her coffee mug. She flexes her other hand, looking rueful. “And it _was_ a hard day’s work.”

“Oh,” Carolina says. She never knows how to respond to Grey or Kimball when they talk about the past like it was just the other day instead of three or four centuries ago. Witches living for a millennia or two is just too weird to think about, so she doesn’t.

Church snorts. “Glad we don’t have those crappy choices.”

Kimball raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re in for an unpleasant surprise,” she says. “The Slicery isn’t going to be as fun as you think it is.”

Church’s second snort is muffled by the pancake half-stuffed into his mouth.

 

* * *

 

Carolina is prepared to work. She’s not prepared for working at Iris.

How does no one know how to fold clothes? Carolina swears that she’s refolded the same sweater piles at least five times, and it’s not even closing time yet. Plus, someone let their child wander around earlier, and the kid had apparently ripped off the price tags for what feels like half the store. Carolina has been alternating between organizing and gritting her teeth every time someone comes up to jokingly ask if a tag-less item is free. And then there’s this latest customer, who walked into the dressing room thirty minutes ago with an armful of clothing, and has just walked back out and straight to the door without buying anything. When Carolina pulls the curtain away, the woman has left everything in a pile in the floor.

Carolina growls.

“Everything all right, Carolina?” her manager calls from where she’s watching by the register.

Carolina fixes a smile on her face. “Yes.” She grabs the clothing and then realizes that the hangers are all tangled together. It takes her a while to wrest them all free of each other, pinching her fingers a couple times in the process. By the time she’s finished, she can feel the tension tight in her shoulders. Then she gets the clothes back onto their hangers, smoothing out the wrinkles that the woman left, even though someone will just wrinkle the clothes in another hour or two.

She gets out of the dressing room and stops short as a neon pink dress is waved in her face. “Why don’t you have this in a size 4?” the customer complains.

“Um, I think we do? I can check in the back--”

“You should have one of every size out here for your customers!”

“Um, I think we usually do? I’m new, but I could mention that to my manager. Just let me--”

“You should!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Carolina says, and retreats into the backroom. She frowns around at everything, because her manager had only given her a speedy overview, but after hunting around she finds the dress in a size four. By the time she gets outside, the woman’s nowhere to be seen. The offending dress has been put on a random rack. “Everything is organized by color,” she whispers, the protest slipping past clenched teeth, and then goes to put the dressing room clothes and the two dresses on their respective racks.

By the time her first shift is done, Carolina’s head aches and her jaw hurts from biting back comments at the customers. It’s a relief to sign out and escape into the sunshine. She tilts her face up and takes a deep breath. She wants this job, she reminds herself. She needs something to keep herself busy, with Wash volunteering at the animal shelter and Niner away most of the summer at soccer camp. Plus it would be nice to have more money for birthday presents this year. Before it was just her parents. Now she has Church, and her friends, and Grey and Kimball.

When she gets back to the brownstone, Church is already there, watching TV. His feet are up on the coffee table, and he’s got a pizza box on his chest. Even as he glances her way, he tears off a slice, rolls it into a ball, and tries to stuff it into his mouth.

“You got free food?” Carolina asks, surprised. She flops down next to him. If he was working anywhere other than the Slicery, she’d be jealous. She doesn’t even get the staff discount on clothes until she’s worked at Iris for a month.

Church shrugs, still chewing on the pizza. His eyebrow raises in a silent question.

“It was a long day,” she admits. She thinks about taking off her shoes and putting her feet up too, but she’s pretty sure she’ll fall asleep on the couch if she does. “I’m sure it’ll be better once I figure out what I’m doing.”

He mumbles agreement, and then swallows. “Yeah. Apparently each table has a number, but they don’t have _actual_ numbers. You’re just supposed to remember which table is which. It's dumb. Whatever. America’s Funniest Home Videos is coming on. Want to watch?”

They watch for a couple minutes, and then Church says idly, “Mortals really love stupid animal videos. I bet if you worked with a familiar, you could make a winning video.”

Carolina recognizes that look. It’s his ‘Church has a terrible idea’ face. She nudges him with her shoulder. “Probably. But the only familiar we know is Grif, and you’re the one who said we should keep our distance,” she reminds him.

“Yeah, I’m just _saying_ , if we ever talked to him again, maybe he wants to make some money. Ten thousand dollars split two ways is still a lot.”

“Two ways? I don’t get any of it?” Carolina asks, teasing him as she fakes confusion.

Church rolls another pizza slice into a ball. “Nope. I came up with the idea, and Grif is the subject. What did you do?”

“Good point,” Carolina says. “Better point: getting Grif to do something stupid on video is just the start. You have to come up with something for him to do that’s actually funny.”

Church scowls at her. “I can be funny!”

“Oh yeah?” Carolina says. “When?”

“You suck,” he informs her and she grins. He slouches lower on the couch. “I’ll come up with something,” he mumbles and stuffed the second pizza ball into his mouth. He chews noisily, smirking as she grimaces and leans away.

She tries to focus on the TV instead of the sounds he’s making, but it’s impossible. Finally she groans loudly and grabs the remote, turning the volume up and grumbling, “You’re gross.”

The front door opens and Kimball walks inside. She smiles when she spies them. “How was your first day?”

“Fine,” Carolina and Church say together.

Kimball doesn’t look like she believes them. Amusement crinkles the corners of her eyes. “Whatever you say. I’ll make dinner in an hour, and then I need the TV at nine.” She studies the pizza box on Church’s chest and adds wryly, “James you can join if you’re still hungry.”

“Yeah,” Carolina says, fixing a smile on her face even as sudden guilt gnaws at her. Since Felix and Locus escaped, Kimball has watched every nightly witch news report just in case there’s word of them. She’s overheard more than one muffled argument between Kimball and Grey, Grey telling her not to worry and to let the Council handle things. To distract herself, Carolina adds, “We’re watching America’s Funniest Home Videos.”

Kimball studies the screen. She shakes her head. “You two have fun, but Buster Keaton ruined me for anyone else.”

“Who?” Carolina asks.

Kimball frowns, like she thinks Carolina is teasing her. “Buster Keaton? You don’t know who-- What are they teaching kids these days?” She folds her arms against her chest and nods. “Right, we’re having a movie night this weekend. You need to see _The General_ and _The Cameraman._ ”

“Pass,” Church says, not looking away from the TV, and groans as Kimball says, “Mandatory.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, Carolina. Clean up that table and then you can take your fifteen minutes,” says her manager, five seconds before the bell above the door rings and a group enters in a clamor of voices and shuffling feet.

Carolina is bracing herself for another mess when she spots Wash. She made an off-hand invitation the other day to come and see where she worked, but she didn’t think he’d take her up on it. Volunteering at the animal shelter has been keeping him busy. And he’s brought Niner, York, Connie, and Connie’s boyfriend Conrad with him. They all cluster around her, grinning. She smiles back. “Hey! Good timing. I just need to finish this, and then we can hang out for a couple minutes.”

“Cool,” Niner says. She starts poking around the shop, completely out of place with her tank top, cargo shorts, and brightly dyed hair. Wash follows suit, giving Carolina a thumbs up and then wandering towards the men’s section as Connie drags Conrad to the sunglasses display case.

Only York stays, watching her. “So this is where you work.” He pauses and chuckles. “I mean, of course this is where you work. Uh, how are you liking it so far?”

“It’s good!” Carolina says brightly, aware of her manager watching them. She keeps folding shirts. “How’s your summer going?” she asks when he doesn’t say anything else.

York shrugs. “My neighbors asked me to house-sit while they’re in Florida for the summer. I just have to water the plants, pretty much. Boring, but easy. The twins are visiting family in California, so I’ve got a lot of free time. Maybe we could, uh--”

Her manager is still staring. Carolina folds the last of the shirts and takes a step back, studying the table. It looks good, though she knows by the time she gets back from her break it’ll probably be a mess again. “I didn’t know the twins were going so far away,” she says, and then realizes she interrupted him. “Sorry, what were you saying?”  

York rubs at the back of his neck. “Uh, never mind.” He glances at her manager, and frowns. A decisive look spreads across his face. “You know what? I’m going to buy something.” He grabs a pale blue sweater off a nearby table. “How much is this?”

“Um, fifteen dollars. And it’s a woman’s sweater,” Carolina says, fighting against a laugh as York blinks down at the sweater. Does he think she’ll get in trouble if one of them doesn’t buy anything? It’s a sweet gesture.

“Right,” he says. “I, uh, need to get a birthday present for my mom.”

“Isn’t your mom’s birthday in November?” Wash asks, wandering back over.

Niner adds, “Also, it’s June. Why are you buying a sweater?”

“And no offense to your mom, but she’s not a small,” Connie chimes in. “She needs a medium.”   

“Maybe I’m trying to plan ahead, guys,” York says through gritted teeth.

Carolina takes the sweater from him and hands him a medium. “Here.” She folds the small and puts it back on the pile, watching from the corner of her eye as her manager looks mollified. Then she says, “I need to stretch my legs. Anyone want to take a walk?”

“Yeah, just let me, uh, buy this,” York says.

Carolina takes a deep breath once they’re outside.

Maybe her relief at having a break is obvious, because Wash says, “You know, you can always come volunteer at the animal shelter. My mom can’t pay you, but she’ll give us lunch every day.”

Niner snorts before Carolina can say anything. “Seriously, Wash? Carolina doesn’t want to help you clean up litter and poop.”

“That’s only part of the job,” Wash says, looking annoyed. “Working at the shelter is great! You get to exercise the dogs, play with the cats, feed them--”

“Get attached and cry when an animal has to be put down,” Connie deadpans. “Or beg your friends to adopt them. Isn’t that how Caboose ended up with Freckles?”

Wash flushes. “I mean, yeah, but everyone loves Freckles!”

“ _Now_ they do,” Niner says. “But I’m pretty sure Mrs. Caboose hated you both for a while.”

“No, she didn’t!”

“Yeah, she did,” Connie says. “Freckles dug up half of her garden, remember?”

“Yeah, okay,” Wash admits with a sigh. “She hated me.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Carolina says, amused. “Thanks for the offer. I’m going to try and stick it out here.” She hears the lack of enthusiasm in her voice too late, and adds, “In a couple weeks, I get a discount at the shop.”

York glances at his bag. His smile goes slightly crooked. “A friends and family one?”  

“No, just for me.” Carolina shrugs. “If you want a discount, go to Church. Apparently he gets free food at the Slicery.”

Connie snorts. “No he doesn’t. Conrad’s cousin worked there last summer. It’s crappy pay and you don’t get free food or discounts.”

“Really?” Carolina says flatly, remembering all the food Church has brought back to the brownstone. He’s eaten enough garlic bread to feed an army. Either he’s spending his entire expected paycheck on food, or he’s stealing. “That’s...interesting.”

Wash snickers. “Hey, Carolina, please tell us if Church gets fired.”

“He’s not getting fired,” Carolina says, but later that night, after Kimball and Grey have gone to bed, she says, “Stop stealing food. You’re going to get fired.”

Church rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to get fired. Do you know how much leftover food we have at the end of the day? They just want to throw it out! Why waste food?”

“You could at least take the leftovers to the homeless shelter or something,” Carolina says.

“But _I_ want to eat it,” Church says. He grimaces when Carolina stares at him. “That sounded better in my head.”

“How? How could that  _possibly_ have sounded better in your head?”

“My point is, they’re not going to miss some food that was going in the garbage. It’s fine.”

Carolina sighs. He’s definitely getting fired.

 

* * *

 

“You want to know about the fourth of July sales,” Carolina says, struggling to keep her voice even and her frustration off her face. This group of girls has asked Carolina five random questions in as many minutes and had her check twice in the back for something they swear was set aside for them last week. Carolina glances towards the register, but her manager is busy with someone doing a load of returns. She knows there’s going to be a sale, but considering that’s still almost a month away, her manager hasn’t given her any details. She takes a deep breath. “I think we do have a fourth of July sale, but I don’t know when it starts, that Friday or Saturday. I can double-check my manager if you want--”

The girl who’s done most of the talking rolls her eyes. Her mouth twists. “Whatever. And you’re sure those pants aren’t in the back?”

“Very sure,” Carolina says, and then, at the group’s judgmental stare, adds, “But I’ll check one more time.”

“Great!” the girl says with biting sweetness. “Maybe third time’s the charm.”

Carolina’s still digging around in the backroom, the girls’ laughter ringing in her ears, when the theft alarm goes off and her manager starts shouting. When she gets out there, her manager is at the door, yelling down the street, “We have you on camera!”

“What happened?” Carolina asks, an anxious knot forming in her stomach.

Her manager glares at her. “What happened is that group of girls just grabbed armfuls of clothing and ran out the door. What were you thinking, going into the back when they were clearly shoplifters?”

“They said something was set aside for them,” Carolina says.

It sounds reasonable even now that she knows the girls were liars, because her manager has special ordered clothing for customers before, but her manager snorts and says, “And you bought that?”

Carolina's face warms. She hates this feeling, the sick lurch of her stomach when she realizes that she’s made a mistake. It reminds her of Felix and Locus and the contact spell that went wrong, of hurting Mr. Simmons and realizing she’s injured someone who just protected her. She feels even sicker. She licks her lips and asks, “Did they steal a lot?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll figure that out for the police report,” her manager says darkly. “Do you understand the register enough to handle that while I….” She waves a hand angrily around the shop.

“I think so,” Carolina says around the lump in her throat.

The sick feeling lingers through the police’s questions and the rest of the shift. She hates feeling stupid. When she gets back to the brownstone, Kimball’s watching the news. Instead of a hello, the first thing Carolina hears is the reporter’s cheerful voice.

“Supposed sightings of Felix and Locus continue, with reports coming in from witches in both the mortal and Other realms--”

Carolina keeps walking. She’s almost to her room when Caboose pops out of Church’s room and says cheerfully, “Hi, Carolina!”

“Hi, Caboose,” she says, forcing a smile. “Having a good summer?”

“Yeah!” He bounces slightly from the force of his nod. “I love the summer. I can hang out with all my sisters, and spend more time with Freckles, _and_ I can play video games with Tucker and Church!” Then his excitement wanes. He squints at her. “Are you okay?”

Carolina blinks, startled by his perception. “Just tired,” she lies. “I think I’m going to take a nap.”

“Okay! Do you want a hug?”

“No,” Carolina says, more forcefully than she means. When his face falls, his expression one of a kicked puppy, she grimaces. “No, thank you, Caboose. That’s really nice, but….” She shrugs, helplessly. She doesn’t want a hug, or at least not one from him. She needs one of her mom’s hugs, the perfect kind. Her mom’s so busy -- helping people, talking to people, organizing things -- but she always knows when Carolina needs all her focus. She’ll wrap Carolina in her arms and hold her for as long as she needs. “Thanks,” she repeats. “I just want a nap.”

She doesn’t take a nap. Instead she paces around her room, as though she can outrun her stomachache and the memory of her manager’s scornful reaction. Finally she picks up the framed photo of her and her parents. She stares at her mom’s face until her vision blurs. She tries to tell herself that she’s survived nine months without her parents, she can get through the rest. It feels like forever until she can see her mom again. And her father, though her heart twists uncomfortably. He hasn’t appeared in a portrait since that first confrontation over Church. The only communication he’s had is the sending of Carolina’s monthly allowance to Kimball. Just thinking about it makes her angry. He’s allowed to talk to her, even if it’s not in person, and he...hasn’t.

Carolina traces her mom’s smile with her fingertip. “I wish I could talk to you,” she whispers. “I keep messing up. I bet even magic would be more fun with you around. I wish I could talk to you. I wish….” She catches the words between her teeth. She thinks of passion spells. Say something three times, want it badly enough, and it might happen. If she repeats herself one last time....

“I wish…..”

She stops. This isn’t a loophole. Maybe it would’ve been nine months ago, when she was still new to magic. The Council might’ve been lenient then, but not now. She sighs. “I wish I was eighteen,” she says instead, and lets the moment go.  

 

* * *

 

Carolina casts a desperate look at the wall clock. There’s only ten minutes until closing. Ten minutes, and then she can go back to the brownstone and get away from her manager, who’s still angry about yesterday. Every look and twist of her lips has made Carolina feel worse. She sees movement from the corner of her eye. When she turns, her heart sinks. There’s a woman with an armful of clothes heading towards the dressing room. “Oh, um, ma’am? We’re closing in ten minutes, so you--”

“I’ll be just a minute,” the woman says without even slowing down. Carolina's surprised she can move so quickly; she looks like she's carrying half of the store.

Then Carolina recognizes her. She’s the woman from Carolina’s first day, the one who left all the clothes in a pile on the floor and didn’t buy anything. She’s going to do it all again, and then Carolina’s going to be stuck in the shop after closing, getting everything back on their hangers and in the right place.

Carolina’s _tired_. Even an extra twenty minutes at the store feels like too much, especially when she knows she won’t get paid for overtime. She steels herself and goes over to her manager, trying to explain the situation in a calm voice.

“So what do you want to do?” her manager asks when Carolina finishes. “Bother a customer who might buy something, just because she didn’t buy anything last time? You need to trust our customers, not assume the worst of them.”

The disapproval stings, but the unfairness of the rebuke is worse. Yesterday she was yelled at for trusting the customers too much, and today she’s stupid for not trusting a customer enough? It’s not fair. Anger floods Carolina. “I just--”

“You just nothing. I’ll talk to her when it’s actually time to close and handle the transaction, since you seem to have a problem with her,” her manager says flatly. “You should do some tidying up.”

Carolina’s face gets hot. Her rage makes it impossible to speak. She just nods jerkily and goes to find the broom. Her anger keeps growing until she’s choking on it. Her body feels hot, from the top of her head down to her toes.

When closing time comes, the woman still hasn’t come out of the dressing room. Carolina stares at her manager, but she’s got the register open and is counting the money. “She’s still in there,” she says, her voice scratchy, and is ignored. Rage flares again. She jabs a finger towards the clock and then towards the dressing room and snaps, “We’re closed! She has to leave! _Now!_ ”

Her fingertip gets hot. A blue spark falls from it and then a lot of things happen at once. Above them the lights begin flickering off and on. The front door slams open with crash of the bell. The sign flips itself from open to closed. The woman bursts through the curtain and sprints towards the door, stumbling a little in her heels. Carolina gets a glimpse of her startled face before the door slams shut behind her.

The shop’s lights all turn off, except for the emergency light. In that wan light, Carolina and her manager stare at each other.

Carolina’s anger and surprise turns to panic. She feels the situation slipping out of her control, just it did with Felix and Locus. She points her finger one more time as her manager looks towards the door, like she’s going to bolt. “Stop!”

Her manager freezes in place.

That gives Carolina a few seconds to panic more. She doesn’t know what to do. What’s the protocol for accidentally doing magic in front of mortals? She can’t ask Grey or Kimball. She doesn’t want to see their faces when they realize how much she’s screwed up.

“Church, I need you,” she says, seizing on the one person who was with her for her biggest mistake. “Church! Church! _Church_!” Her voice cracks the final time, but it doesn’t matter because Church is standing in front of her, a half-eaten piece of garlic bread falling from his hand as he blinks at her.

He stares around, his eyes going wide behind his glasses. “So, uh, bad day at work?”

Carolina glares.

He winces. “Yeah. Okay.” He steps up to the manager and waves a hand across her face. Carolina watches the woman’s eyes unfocus. Then he turns back to her. “So what happened?”

“What did you do to her?”

Church shrugs. “A memory spell. She won’t remember any of this.”

“A _memory_ spell? So, what, you wiped her memory? Is she going to have amnesia? Why would you use that before I told you what’s going on? Maybe she didn’t need to get her mind wiped!”

Church looks baffled by her questions. “Uh, if she saw you use magic, she has to have her memory wiped. All the other options are _way_ worse, trust me. She’ll just remember that you helped her close the shop.” He gestures impatiently. “So, what happened?”

Carolina tells him. It comes out a little jumbled, probably, because she keeps getting distracted by her manager’s vague expression, but he seems to get the gist. By the time she’s finished, he’s completely focused on her. He looks confused. “You’re sure you didn’t repeat yourself three times and accidentally do a passion spell?” When she shakes her head, his frown darkens to a scowl. “Your magic shouldn’t be out of control like this. You’ve had magic for almost a _year_. I don’t get it.”  

Carolina folds her arms against her chest, half-hugging herself. “I _know_ what I said. I didn’t do a passion spell.”  

“The only way your magic should be this wild is if you’re not using it.” Carolina knows her expression changes, because his eyes narrow. “Wait. When did you last do magic? Before all this?”

“Um, Monday. When I made my outfit for work.”

“Monday,” Church repeats. His brow creases. “Well, that’s not too long, which means--”

Carolina licks her lips. She knows that she’s blushing. “Last Monday. As in last week.”

Church stares at her. “Yeah, that’d do it,” he says. He shakes his head. There’s a slight bite to his voice as he adds, “Jesus, Carolina, I thought you got this already!”

Carolina glares again. “There wasn’t any reason to use my magic! I already have too many clothes, and Kimball and Grey have been doing the food spells, so-- what else is there for me to do?”

“Uh, literally any other spell!”

“Why would I do pointless spells?”

“To stop this from happening!” Church snaps, waving a hand at her manager.

Carolina bristles. Church sounds exasperated, like she’s been an idiot for not using magic all the time. She knows Kimball and Grey keep telling her that she needs to use her magic, but it’s hard when magic won’t give her what she actually needs. Doesn't he get that magic is the cause of all of her problems? Her voice rises. “I'm still learning, okay? I didn’t know I had magic for sixteen years! Give me a break when it takes more than a couple months to--”

“To what? Actually remember to use your magic? Most half-mortals _love_ magic! They do all kinds of stupid crap with their powers!”

"Really? All kinds of stupid crap? You mean like wiping people’s memories?"

“When it’s for their own good, yeah!” Carolina stares at him, and he grimaces. He fiddles with his glasses, mumbling, “That came out wrong. I meant--”

Carolina doesn’t want to know what he meant. She turns away, stomping behind the counter and grabbing her purse. She slams the register shut for good measure. “Okay, mystery solved. I’ll just figure out some stupid spells.”

“Look,” Church says awkwardly. “I didn’t mean. It’s just if a mortal--” He stops when she ignores him. From the corner of her eye, she sees him rubbing at the back of his neck. “I guess it’s weird, getting used to magic.” He doesn’t sound like he gets it, but Carolina sees him using magic for everything. Half the time he snaps his fingers and skips walking down the stairs. “But there are useful spells. Brushing your teeth, for one, or your hair, or--”

“Thanks,” Carolina says flatly. She looks at her manager, still standing there with that unfocused look. “Um... I didn’t mean to stop her with a spell, reverse my magic so that all is well.”

Her manager blinks rapidly, and then scowls at Carolina. “Well, if you can’t manage this for two weeks, expect a small paycheck. You’ll be paid for the hours you worked, no more, no less. You can pick up the check at the end of the month.”

“Um,” Carolina says. “What?”

“Oh yeah, you quit,” Church says. He looks confused when Carolina glares at him. “What? This job clearly sucks!”

“I didn’t say I wanted to quit!” Carolina snaps. “Don’t make decisions for me!”

“I’m not, I just--”

“If you two are going to argue, take it outside. I need to close up and call one of my part-time people since we’ll be short-staffed tomorrow,” her manager says, sounding irritated.

Church hustles Carolina towards the door before she can say anything. He hisses under his breath, “If you _really_ want the job, you can go back and do another spell, but three spells on one mortal in like ten minutes isn’t the best idea.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have made her think I quit!” Carolina hisses back.

Church scoffs at that. “Come on, Carolina. You hated this place. You think I don’t know when you’re miserable?” His mouth twists and he grins a quick, sheepish lopsided smile. “Besides I definitely just got fired, so uh, sibling solidarity?”

Carolina opens her mouth to argue, and then realizes she can’t. She really did hate this place. It’s a relief just to imagine waking up tomorrow and not having to deal with the frustrating customers or her manager. She sighs. “Next time ask before you quit my job on my behalf?”

“Yeah, okay,” Church says, looking relieved. He sighs. “I really thought working at the Slicery would be a dream job, but it also sucked. Maybe all mortal jobs suck.”

“Maybe,” Carolina says. She hesitates, because Church gets weird about her mom, and adds, “My mom loves working for the rescue though. So maybe it’s just teen jobs that suck.” She nudges him with her elbow. “Told you that you’d get fired.”

“They were just going to throw the food away! Really, I was just helping.”

“Uh uh. Keep telling yourself that.”

They walk in silence for a second, and then Church says, “You’ve had fun with magic though, right? Like, you like doing the clothing spells? That one was cool?”

Carolina shrugs. “Yeah, but there’s only so many dresses you can make.”

Church makes a face. “Right. We’ve just got to figure out a spell for you to do like once a week along with small, boring ones like a magical toothbrush. We need something flashy, something fun, something _big,_ but one that won’t attract the wrong attention. Otherwise that--” He jerks his thumb back in the direction of the shop. “--is gonna keep happening.”

Carolina feels the color drain from her face. “ _Forever_?”

“What?” Church looks startled. “No! I mean, yeah, even when you’re an adult, if you don’t use your magic at all, this will happen, but just.” He twists his mouth, thinking. “Think of it like witch puberty. A lot of hormones along with acne. After a while, you’re gonna level out, but you’ve got a lot of energy aka magic to burn. You have to use it, or your magic will do its own thing.”

“Oh,” Carolina says. She laughs shakily and smacks his shoulder. “You scared me!”

“Ow,” he groans, rubbing at his arm as though she had actually hit him hard. He shrugs. “Yeah, not forever. Just daily spells, or if you really want to brush your teeth the mortal way like a weirdo, something big. We can look at our books, figure something out.”

“Okay,” Carolina says. She feels some of the tension still in her go. She’s been expecting Church to argue with her over ignoring her powers. Then another thought strikes her. She laughs again. “You’re telling Kimball and Grey that we both quit.”

“What? Why me?”

Carolina shoots him a look. “I didn’t quit, remember? You made that decision for me. So you can tell them.”

“But you hated that job,” Church whines. “I was just helping!” When she just keeps looking at him, he sighs. Jamming his hands into his pockets, he mumbles, “I don’t even know why you stuck with it. You hated it on day one.”

Carolina thinks of her grand plans to buy him a birthday present. She flushes and shrugs.  “I mean, I’m not getting a double allowance like _someone_ I know. And I wanted to get some birthday presents for people this year. Wash, Niner, Kimball, Grey, you, maybe something for my mo--”

It takes her a second to realize that Church has stopped walking. When she turns, he’s wearing a weird expression. “Carolina, I don’t have a birthday.”

She shrugs again. “I know. Still. Normal kids have birthdays, right? And I’d be a crappy sister if I didn’t get you a present.” He’s still staring, so she adds, “Come on. Don’t you want a birthday party? Free gifts?”

He makes a sound that’s not quite a laugh. He avoids her eyes. “Gifts are good. Just, uh. Didn’t know you were thinking about that. Birthdays, I mean.” Before she can call him out on the weird, stilted way he’s talking, he suddenly laughs.  “Aw, crap, that means I have to get you a present.”

“Unless you want to be a crappy brother,” Carolina agrees.

He groans. “Ugh. Oh well, that’s not for months. I’ll just get you new running shoes or something.”

“I’ll pretend to be surprised,” Carolina says dryly.

Church’s eyes suddenly light up. “Wait. I have an idea for some flashy magic. Come on.”

 

* * *

 

“Here,” Church says. He stops walking and stands there, flushed and winded, but pleased with himself.

Carolina studies their surroundings with a mix of curiosity and confusion. Church has led her to one of the parks on the outskirts of Westbridge. Now they’re on a path that’s unswept and so unused that grass has broken the stones into pieces. All around them is forest, the sunlight casting dappled shadows through the trees.

Carolina has no idea what he has planned. He just grinned at her every time she asked, and eventually she stopped asking. She takes a deep breath, breathing in the summer air, and says, “So, flashy magic.”

“Right,” Church says. He adjusts his glasses. “Most witches don’t bother with this spell, since it only works for very short distances. Travel via closet or on a vacuum is easier and more efficient, but trust me, this one’s more fun.”

“On a vacuum?” Carolina asks, seizing onto the weirdest part of Church’s mini-speech.

Church waves a dismissive hand. “Focus, Carolina. Anyway, this is sort of like when you did when you accidentally won that race, only it ups your speed by a million. Okay, not an _actual_ million, but a lot. It basically turns you into the Flash for ten minutes.”

“That sounds...really fun actually.”

“I know,” Church says. Smugness radiates from him. Before she can tease him about it, he cups his hands and holds them out. “Put your hands together like this. We just need an ingredient: a runner’s breath.” He grins at her. “Easy enough to get.”

She blows gently into her cupped hands. “Think about running,” he says. Her hands begin to glow, faintly at first and then stronger as he continues. “How does it make you feel? Think about the wind, the ground, your breath. Remember the fastest you’ve ever run, and then think about going even faster.”

The glow turns warm, spreading up her arms and down her body. Her entire body buzzes with energy. Thinking about running makes her realize she hasn’t really exercised since she first started working at Iris. “Can I--”

“Yeah,” Church says, grinning, and she bolts.

Her feet skim the ground. The trees turn to green and brown smudges. A memory comes to her as she runs: her father reading Peter Pan, her mom sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over his shoulder to grin and steal Wendy’s lines and occasionally make fun of the story. What had Peter promised Wendy? To teach her to jump on the wind's back and fly? This isn’t flying, but it’s close enough that she grins from ear to ear.  

Gradually exhaustion starts replacing euphoria, which probably means the spell is wearing off. She runs back along the path to where Church is waiting, cross-legged on a blanket and eating some chicken wings he’s apparently magicked into existence.

The spell ends and she drops down onto the ground next to him. “Wow,” she says, taking a deep breath. She feels all the well-earned exhaustion of a long run, some muscles aching that she didn’t know she had. All the tension is gone. She stretches out on the blanket, contemplating a nap, when Church leans into her field of vision.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. The spell will wear you out,” he says.

“Uh huh,” Carolina agrees, yawning. There’s something she wants to say before she sleeps. She forces her eyes open. “Sorry you got fired.”

Church shrugs. “Technically, not fired yet. I will be the next time I walk into the Slicery though. And whatever, I was gonna have to quit soon anyway. Used a spell on the manager when she caught me taking pizza home yesterday, and the pay sucks. Besides, it turns out you can almost get sick of pizza.”

“Stop using memory spells on people. It’s weird,” Carolina says, but she can’t muster up too much outrage when she’s five seconds from sleeping. She yawns again and adds, “You’re still telling Kimball and Grey that we quit our jobs.”

“ _Carolina_ ,” Church whines. He’s still complaining when she falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> **Honorable Mention**
> 
> 2x09 - The Great Escape - Oh, that inescapable 90s diet episode. It could have been cringey, but instead was just hilarious. When a neighbor reports Simmons for having an obese cat who’s clearly unhealthy, Grif laughs it off. Simmons, still twitchy after the Council stooge visit, actually puts him on a diet. Cue shenanigans. Grif goes temporarily on the lam. Carolina recognizes Grif at the Slicery trying to rob it, and just picks him up by the scruff and walks out with a slice of pizza dangling out of his mouth. Simmons and Carolina have a very awkward phone call. 
> 
> Also it gave us this now iconic exchange:
> 
> “This is because you snuck in and ate his casserole, isn’t it?!”  
> “Uh, I plead the sixth.”  
> “That’s not even the right amendment!”


End file.
